


Sass and Sunburns

by dramapunk



Category: Avengers, Marvel
Genre: Clint puts the ass in sass, Community: trope_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramapunk/pseuds/dramapunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are on an Op in Vegas and the sun is hot. Thanks to @redlionspride for the beta read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sass and Sunburns

Clint by no means thought a mission in Vegas would be fun and games, missions where hardly ever fun, and rarely had games involved. A mission that had him up in the nest in the middle of the desert in July, was not going to be easy. But he could sit, and he could wait for the target Phil talking to him occasionally in his ear.

It had been two years since the Chetari attack, one year and six month since he and Phil, had started dating, those first six months had been the worst of his life. Those six months he thought Phil was dead and gone, but then well, Fury lies. He lies a lot.

So here he is, 2 years, and a few Psych Evals later, in the middle of the dessert keeping eyes on some AIM base, those crazy guys in yellow suits moving about. Waiting for the target to show up. He’s been in the perch for just over 24 hours now, and the temperature feels like it’s gone up since yesterday, by at least 20. 

He takes a salt tablet and refocuses, Phil had said this would be a quick one, no longer than 48 hours and god he hopes so, he’s well trained, but even the best bodies don’t handle dramatic temperature changes well. 

“How are you doing up there, Barton?” Phil’s voice comes in all business over the comms, happy both he and Barton are back on active SHIELD duty, he now feels he can understand Clint’s loathing of medical a bit more. 

“It’s 8am and 90 degrees. That aside, I am good boss. I’ll let you know if that starts to change.” He says smirk obvious in his voice when he says boss. 

“You better, I don’t think baked Hawk sounds very appetizing.” Phil says flatly.

“Mmm hmm and how do you know what Hawk tastes like?” Clint teases back.

“Eyes on the target, not on the comms.” Phil tries to keep the laugh out of his voice.

“It’s a private channel Boss man, don’t stress.” He grins a little hearing the vague amusement in Phil’s voice. But he refocuses on the AIM base through his scope, watching the comings and goings waiting for his target to show.

A few hours later, Clint can see the heat wavering on the horizon and the sweat rolling down his back. It’s at the hottest part of the day, he figures given how high the sun is. He can pull through, he figures he’s been in worse perches then this one. 

He takes his canister of water and drinks some slowly, capping it and focusing on the base again letting the focus of a mission pull him back under.

Another hour passes before Phil’s voice comes back over the comms. “Give me a sitrep, Hawkeye.” Phil says eyes checking the tempter and the amount of time Clint’s been up there. The target should be arriving any time now. 

“Fine. Boss.” He says automatically, because he is fine, well mostly he’s starting to feel the heat a little, and takes another slow sip of water.

“Barton. Give me an actual Sitrep.” Phil repeats. 

“Running a little low on water, starting to feel the heat, shade from my perch is going. Worried for the temp drop with the sun goes down.” He says with a minimal huff.

“We’ll get you down soon then.” Phil’s voice comes back over the comm with seriousness to it.

“But the target hasn’t shown up yet.” He points out watching from his scope

“Your health is more important, you’re a valued agent.” He returns.

Clint swears he can hear a hint of a smile in his voice and it almost makes him laugh but he doesn’t because they are on an opp and it’s all business right now. 

After another two hours and a bottle and a half of water later, the opp is called, it’s getting too hot already creeping into the 120’s. 

Once he gets out of his perch, he stretches slow and easy, muscles hurting more then they should he thinks. 

He let out a low groan as joints pop in a pleasant way, as he stretches himself out and puts away his bow and slings the case across his back wincing a little. 

“Fuck...” He mutters, he must have spent too long in the perch in the heat, a shower and something to eat and he should be fine. 

The black SUV rolls up, he places the case in the back seat and climbs into the passenger seat and smiles at Phil over in the driver seat. 

“Home time?” He asks grinning, “Or hotel time? and then back in the perch tomorrow?” He asks rolling his shoulders again. 

Phil looks at Clint and is about to smile at the archer the but it stops, and he drops his sun glasses. 

“Barton...” He says warningly. 

“What boss?” Clint asks. 

Coulson lets out a sigh, and flips down the passenger side mirror and opens the mirror. “Take a look for yourself.” 

Clint rolls his eyes and takes off his sunglasses and looks in the mirror and lets out a string of curses. “Goddamn it.” He huffs, a red face, with sunglass tan line stares back, he looks at his arms which are just as red, and pops off his guard and glove. “This is gonna start hurting like a bitch soon.” He sighs scrubbing a hand down his face but stops, because it already feels a little tender. 

“You didn’t put sunblock on?” Phil asks as he starts back toward their hotel. 

“I forgot, I thought I had enough shade, and it wasn’t in the kit, I had plenty of water and salt tabs.” He huffs a little more leaning back in the seat, already starting to feel the heat spread across his skin. 

“I’ll make a note to make sure it’s in the kits from now on.” Phil mutters. 

“Can I say I officially hate desert missions?” Clint says adjusting the AC, and for once Phil doesn’t bat his hands away from the controls. 

“Yes. I believe you can, though the last time you seemed to enjoy it.” Phil laughs. 

“That was before we started dating, when we were still UST’ing at each other, and I got to watch Thor wrestle around in the mud.” Clint’s lips twitch despite the lobster status of his face and arms. 

Phil takes one hand off the wheel and flicks Clint’s ear trying not to laugh, as he shakes his head a little. 

“Owe, fuck babe.” Clint laughs 

“UST’ing? and staring at Thor?” He chuckles. 

“I said UST’ing at each other, you know Unresolved Sexual Tension?” He laughs as they pull into the hotel parking lot. “Also tell me to didn’t look when he’s was all wet and covered in mud.” Clint chuckles softly undoing his seatbelt. 

“Fine, fine, your account of the last time is accurate.” Phil smiles “Now lets get your inside and taken care of before you start to bitch and moan.” He comes around to Clint’s side and gives him a small chaste kiss, a rare public display of affection other than occasional hand holding. But then there relationship is the worst kept secret at Shield and the Avengers are aware. 

Clint follows Phil into the room, Phil closes and locks the door, turning up the AC a little more , and moves toward his gear bag. “Strip, cold shower go.” 

Clint thinks that sounds like a great idea a wonderful idea, “What no foreplay?” 

“Not today burn boy.” Phil snorts starting to change out of his suit. “More interested in you keeping your skin.” He snorts a little. 

“Not going all silence of the lambs on me are you?” Clint laughs stripping down and moving to the bathroom turning on the shower and letting out a pleased hum under the cool spray, feels good on the sunburn and all the dust that has built up in his hair and other parts of him for the days in the perch. 

“God this feels good...” Clint says working the shampoo through his hair. 

“I would imagine so. Was going to make you take one anyway, you're always a little ripe after time in a stand.” Phil laughs changing his clothes. 

“Please you love my musk.” Clint teases voice drifting from the bathroom. 

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Phil moves back to main area of the room and grabs a bottle of aloe, from his first aide kit and clicks on the TV waiting for Clint. 

Clint comes out and blond hair slicked down to his head, and digs out a pair of boxers pulling the on, wincing a little from the sunburn on his arms and face. 

“Come over here, Clint.” Phil says popping the cap off the aole. 

“Am I going to get the hose again if I don’t?” He laughs moving over, ignoring the episode of Hoarders on the tv as he sits in front of Phil on the bed. 

“We are so not watching midnight horror movies anymore.” Phil snorts starting to rub the aloe into Clint’s arms. 

“Please, you love when I make inappropriate film references about our relationship.” Clint lets out a pleased hum as the gel cools down his arms. 

“Yeah I suppose I do. I suppose I do.” Phil Chuckles.


End file.
